


Hood

by xobarriers



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Robin Hood References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 02:49:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17113013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xobarriers/pseuds/xobarriers
Summary: "So passed the seasons then, so they pass now, and so they will pass in time to come, while we come and go like leaves of the tree that fall and are soon forgotten." -Howard Pyle, The Merry Adventures of Robin HoodAfter the death of his father, Gerard's left to manage the family estate- until he's unjustly thrown into the cold, with nothing to his name and no way to provide for his love. Thus follows the account of how the legend of the Hood came into being, and the hazel eyes that acted as the catalyst for his crimes.





	Hood

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally published on ao3 under my username electricmillenia. It was written for a zine curated by Can Richards. I thought it was time to bring it back, because I really enjoyed this fic! I hope y'all do too <3

The first permanent change in Gerard Way's life came the day his father's estate in Locksley and the title of Earl of Huntingdon was left to him. It had been a dreary, chilling morning; the rain had blown in over Sherwood with a cold vengeance, bringing the sea air to the sprawling grounds. Gerard had been kneeling in the mud beside the stables, mending his bow and mumbling a prayer for his father's health under his breath, when the news arrived from the mouth of a pale faced messenger. His father had gone peacefully in his sleep, without any pain or terror. He was grateful for that, at least, and relieved that his father had finally found peace, though he felt a dull pain inside his chest.

Being the lord of Locksley was a blessing, both to himself and to the servants and artillery stationed on the estate. Gerard's father had never been cruel, but he was a penny-pincher, holding back every loose coin unless it was absolutely necessary to spend it; so he had grown up used to his father's servants traversing the grounds in threadbare, patched tunics and gowns. Once the new lord of Locksley saw his father's records and discovered how much money his father had shifted into his own fat purse, he immediately started channeling the cash towards different means, such as repairing the servants' quarters and barracks and ensuring that thick wool fabric was brought onto the estate to allow for the assembly of proper winter clothes for all who lived there. Within a month, news had traveled through word of mouth to all the nearby towns of the stunningly generous new lord of Locksley, drawing the attention of several officials who had not been previously aware of the estate's abounding wealth. Although Gerard didn't know it at the time, this would soon shake his entire world to its core.

Several weeks later, Gerard experienced the second permanent change in his life. He was hunting in Sherwood Forest, escaping from his civic duties and emotions for an afternoon, when he heard a whistle in the near distance. The sound was clear and high, and he followed it without hesitation, curious. Nearing the source of the whistle- now sounding out the tune of a folk melody- he stepped behind a tree and leaned his still strung bow against the rough bark, craning his neck to see who was whistling in the middle of the otherwise empty forest.

Gerard saw a young man garbed in a deep red tunic and dark leggings standing in the center of a clearing, his head tilted up towards the clouded sky. His hair was long and black, tumbling down in messy locks past his cheekbones, and his figure was slim and graceful, unconsciously wild and strong. Gerard liked him instantly.  
His instinctive interest and approval deepened as the man- who appeared to be near his age, about nineteen winters- silenced his whistling and slunk between the trees toward some unseen goal, his feet silent on the loamy ground and every movement fluid, shrugging a hickory bow from his shoulder and stringing it with a practiced ease, drawing an arrow and nocking it to the bowstring within a split second before letting the arrow fly. Gerard caught a glance of the man's quick smile and sharp jaw before he loped after the arrow, slinging the bow back across his shoulders as he went.  
He would've given anything to approach the boy and introduce himself but he refrained, imagining his strong jaw tightening and his open expression faltering once he realized Gerard's intentions; intentions that most men would never understand. How was he supposed to explain his attraction when the object of his attentions wasn't a lady? It just wasn't done; nobody expressed feelings like his.

He reluctantly turned and headed home, his thoughts running wild in his mind, imagining caressing the hunter's skin and pressing his lips to his sharp jawline. The images drove him to stop by the gates of his estate and ask a soldier who the boy was, feigning an unattached curiosity.

His name was Frank Iero; the eighteen year old son of a sickly nobleman who stayed within his slowly crumbling stone walls, withdrawing himself from the rest of the world. Frank took every opportunity to sneak through the doors and set off into the forest, only hunting when he needed the meat and other times simply resting and watching the animals come and go with the wind.

Gerard's interest only grew stronger with every word from the soldier's mouth, and he knew, despairingly, but without a doubt, that he wouldn't be able to keep himself from approaching Frank if he ever saw him again.

That opportunity arrived sooner than Gerard ever imagined. He had gone to Sherwood every day he could slip away for nearly a fortnight since then, aching to see Frank hunt again. So far he had been unsuccessful.

He leaned against the trunk of an oak tree, softly sighing and relaxing against the bark.

"I've seen you following me."

The voice came from behind Gerard and he nearly lost his balance, spinning to finally view Frank's amused expression staring into his own desperate one.

"I- I was just-"

"I'll admit, I'm pretty flattered, but I'm also confused. Who are you?" Frank asked, his voice so much better than Gerard had expected, sending chills through his body.

"I- I'm Gerard Way, I'm the new, the new lord of Locksley?" He stammered, his usual ability to smoothly deliver words failing him. "I am not attempting to bother you, I've just been curious-"

Frank gave a crooked smile and Gerard fell even further under his spell. "I'm not bothered, Gerard Way. My name's Frank Iero."

"Frank, um, okay, I swear I never meant to stalk you or annoy you," Gerard mumbled, scuffing the leather of his boots against a fallen branch. His mouth decided briefly to run away again without his approval, and he opened it to say, "I heard you whistling and I needed to figure out who you were, because it was beautiful."  
'You're beautiful,' he added silently, watching a faint pink blush appear on Frank's cheekbones.

"Come hunting with me tomorrow?" Frank queried, his smooth voice betraying a slight twinge of nerves. "It's been a long time since I've had a partner. Hunting partner."

"Of course," he agreed instantly, unable to refuse. "I'll meet you here tomorrow morning? If you'd like?"

"I'd love that," the man responded softly, his eyes flickering up to meet Gerard's. "It'll be good to get to know you, Gerard Way."

Before Gerard could do more than flush scarlet, Frank turned and retreated into the trees, leaving him alone. He watched Frank disappear and then turned for home, nearly slack jawed in amazement, every thought occupied by the details of Frank's face and neck and torso, things he shouldn't even be noticing but couldn't help obsessing over anyway.

And so days and fortnights went by, the two men quickly becoming fast friends as the forest was blanketed by snow. Gerard fell harder for him every time they met to hunt, his heart filled near to bursting and his hopes slowly dwindling. As the season wore away so did their boundaries, leading up to a single day near midwinter.

They had gone hunting again that morning, meeting up beneath the gnarled evergreen at the edge of Sherwood, boots already covered with powdered snow. Frank's cheeks were flushed a bright pink, his eyes bright and shining in the cold; Gerard had never seen anything prettier.

Frank immediately noticed his obvious and avid stare and he became exhausted of how Gerard was consistently afraid of opening himself fully. Without a warning he stepped forward to rest his chest against Gerard's, look up and meet his eyes, and wait for him to react.

Gerard's frozen breath caught in his lungs as he gazed down at Frank's chilled face, instantly taking in the bruised circles beneath his hazel eyes and the expectant hope circling in them. "Frankie, what-?" He asked weakly, slowly leaning closer to him, drawn by a force he didn't want to admit.

"Is it not obvious?" The shorter man said, his voice soft, as one of his arms slid around Gerard's waist. "I'm tired of pretending, Gerard. We both know how we feel, correct?"

Gerard's body took over for him, instinctively closing the distance between the two, pressing his lips to Frank's and breathing in his smoky scent as he kissed him like he'd never get another chance. Frank responded instantaneously by winding his fingers in Gerard's long hair and kissing him back passionately, pulling them together fully and pushing Gerard back against the rough bark of an evergreen. Gerard finally broke away for air and rested his forehead against Frank's, gasping, "Frank Iero, would you- would you do me the honor of being mine forever? Come live with me and sleep in my bed, Frank. Marry me."

Frank nodded furiously and kissed him again.

The duo were unable to be united properly, in a chapel, but Gerard paid it no mind. He determined that Frank would leave his father in a physician's care and travel to Locksley a fortnight hence, where Gerard would've prepared a larger room for the two of them, further separated from the rest of his estate's inhabitants for a modicum of privacy.

He had never been so joyful; everything made him smile and even the dreary rain and snow of early February couldn't dissuade him. His love was his own, forever, and nothing could stop them from sharing a long life together.

Or so he thought. Five days after his confession of adoration, fate arrived in the form of a notice nailed to his gates- a notice from Nottingham, the township roughly an hour's ride away- detailing the supposed tax fraud of his father and the money he owed the crown. More money than he had ever seen in his life.

He traveled to Nottingham immediately to demand the records of his father's fraud from the town mayor, only to have any records that might've existed refused. Gerard was desperate and scared as he turned to his last hope; a small, mud-thatched building near the center of town, containing the office and stores of the Sheriff of Nottingham himself.

The sheriff was a middle aged man with a childish face and scraggly hair, a vague and sardonic smirk ever present on his thick lips. "Tax fraud, you say? At Locksley? I never," he drawled in a thick Scottish brogue, his voice unpleasantly high. "I was the man who wrote that notice, Lord. Your late father had been avoiding his debts to the crown for far too long, and I'm simply unable to overlook it any further. You have five days."

Gerard's heart sank into his boots. "Five, five days? Sheriff, this is an impossible amount of money. My father never owned this much in his life, bless his soul. He couldn't possibly have avoided paying this much."

"Five days," the man responded, obviously enjoying himself. "Can you do it?"

"Can I- of course I can't!" Gerard sputtered, his fists clenching helplessly. "That's far too much!"

"That's a shame," he crooned sympathetically, his smile belying his tone. "The country of England reclaims your estate, effective tomorrow at sunfall. Thank you for your business and may the lord have mercy on your soul."

And so Gerard's perfect world fell apart as he found himself penniless and alone in the snow, watching as the gates to the only home he had ever known were closed in front of his eyes. His home was gone, taken by a force he couldn't dream of fighting. He could never bring Frank home.

He left a letter by their meeting evergreen, too heartbroken and ashamed to bear facing his love with the news, and retreated deep into Sherwood, scraping the skin off his palms but building a temporary shelter and lighting a fire to keep himself warm.

And so days and fortnights went by, Gerard only becoming lonelier and angrier as winter blossomed into spring. He started a small garden in the clearing by his newly built home in Sherwood Forest, although as he broke the ground with naught but a sharp rock and his bare hands he imagined that every stroke was inflicted on the men who had stolen his life and his love from him and caused him to disappear.

Everything changed yet again a month later, when a caravan carting gold traveled through Sherwood, en route to Nottingham. Gerard seized his chance with a terrible vengeance, using his bow to quickly pick off the soldiers guarding the cart and dragging the bags of gold coins into two equal piles. One pile would go to himself, in the hopes that someday he would pay his father's debt, and the other would go to the paupers he saw on the side of the road, hungry and even more alone than he was. He chopped the cart into small pieces and tossed them in a creek before burying the guards, hoping that nobody would ever discover what had happened. The coins he distributed the same day, leaving small sacks on doorsteps and window ledges for people to discover.

For the first time since he had left Locksley, Gerard felt hope again. He still had a purpose, and he'd never lose what good, albeit small, he had done. He robbed another cart the next week, and the next, and soon word spread of what he was doing, along with a rumor that the gold was going to the poor.

He became something of a local hero; the townspeople of Nottingham would watch for the cloaked and hooded figure slipping between houses. Because nobody knew his name, they started referring to him as the Robbing Hood.

And as time went by, others ventured into Sherwood to join him. The Robbing Hood built up a band of followers and started a village in the middle of the woods, slowly beginning to go on more dangerous missions. Rumors floated around about the sheriff, and how he was absolutely livid at the disappearances of his coins.

For a brief time, Gerard was happy. He had a good man named Ray at his right hand and several dozen men willing to fight for him, and he was slowly building up the funds to return home. But he missed Frank so badly that he'd wake up late at night with his breath stealing from him, his body aching to curl around Frank's instead of his ragged blanket. His love never faded, instead growing sharper and more painful every day, like an arrow in his heart. Gerard missed him more than anything, but he knew that Frank deserved more than a life of crime in the forest. He deserved a warm home, all the jewels and furs money could buy, and Gerard's full adoration. Gerard could've waited on him hand and foot for the rest of his life and he never would've grown tired. The cold and empty forest was no place to bring your love, not for forever.

So Gerard wrote another letter to let Frank know why, though he had never stopped loving him and he never would, they couldn't be together, and brought it to their old evergreen, his cloak and hood pulled around him and his face masked with a scarf. He gently nailed it to the bark, his eyes welling up with tears. He missed Frank more than he missed his home and everything else in his life, but he refused to ask Frank to join him and place himself in danger.

A slight sound behind Gerard alerted him to another presence and he whirled, pressing his hand to the hilt of the dirk he wore round his waist. A man dressed in a knight's garb stood there menacingly, a long dagger clutched in his armored hand.

"Step away from the tree," the knight ordered him in a low voice, his face hidden in the shadows of his helmet, making him look more dangerous than ever. Gerard slowly took a step away from the trunk, surreptitiously drawing his dirk from its sheath.

"What brings you to Sherwood?" Gerard asked in a smooth and deep voice, faking a Scottish lilt. "This isn't a safe place for men like you. Nobody wears the king's colors out here if they want to live."

"Nice words coming from a man with no defenses," the knight said, tilting his helmeted head sideways. "I doubt you could best me in a knife fight."

Gerard brandished his weapon, his expression slipping into a scowl. "Try me. You'd be surprised."

Within a few moments their daggers had clashed, the two men locking hilts. Gerard shoved the knight backwards, detangling his dirk and moving into a ready stance. The knight came at him for a second time, dagger swiping at the air inches from his face. Gerard retaliated with a sharply thrown kick to the man's knee, knocking him sideways only to have him come back with a vengeance and cut through Gerard's tunic sleeve, drawing a steady flow of blood from the split muscle.

The wound didn't dissuade him from locking their hilts for a second time to push roughly against the knight, taking advantage of his taller stature to knock the man off guard. The knight stumbled and fell, the dagger flying from his fingers as he landed violently on a protruding and gnarled root, struggling to breathe as the breath was knocked from his lungs.

Gerard hesitated to approach while he was on the ground, feeling it dishonest. He instead took a tighter grip on his dirk and relaxed his stance, waiting for the knight to stand. "You aren't bad for a king's man," he said conversationally, fingering the tip of his blade. "I've fought many worse."

"I expected more from the famous Robbing Hood," the knight responded mockingly, slowly regaining his feet. A hint of desperation had crept into his tone, and he looked up at Gerard, his hazel eyes widened. "I don't want to fight you. Just let me have the letter on that tree and I'll be on my way."

Gerard's face twisted into an enraged glare. "My letter? You don't need to touch my letter."

"It can't be yours," the knight hissed, shaking his helmeted head violently. "I've been waiting for this letter for months. Step away or I will kill you."

He was unbelievably confused and angry by this point, risking a glance back at the innocuous envelope on the tree. "I wrote that letter."

The knight jerkily undid the straps of his helmet. "Who are you, Robbing Hood? Show yourself to me."

"Why would I ever do that?" Gerard growled, tightening his grip on his dirk's hilt. "You'd return to Nottingham to report me. It would be easier for me if I just finished you now."

The knight didn't seem to have a comeback to Gerard's bold words, his hands still frozen on the now undone straps of his helmet. With a single flurry of motion he flung the helmet into Gerard's face and connected his shoulder with Gerard's stomach, hurling him back into a thorny bush as the unmasked knight darted past to grab the letter from the tree, tearing it from the nail with reckless speed.

Gerard struggled to regain his breath as he sat up, feeling blood trickling down the back of his throat as his face throbbed. He grasped for the knight's ankle, tugging him to the ground and scrambling to regain his letter. He flipped the man over and raised his hand, fingers knitted into a fist, a wordless cry of rage spilling from his split lips. And then he diverted his fist, slamming it against the forest floor as his eyes met the knight's hazel eyes, filled with pain and fear. Eyes he knew.

Gerard scrambled backwards, horrified at what he had done. "Frank? Frankie, baby?"

And Frank, the knight, relaxed against the frozen loam at his words. Gerard ripped off his hood and scarf, letting them fall unheeded to his shoulders, and knelt beside him.

"Baby boy, I'm so sorry," he crooned, hot tears spilling down his cheeks and mixing with the blood drying on his upper lip. "Please tell me you're okay, please be okay, I'm begging you."

"It's really you?" Frank asked him raggedly, moving to a seated position. "Gerard?"

"It's me," Gerard confirmed, reaching out a trembling hand to caress Frank's face.

"Where were you? Why didn't you come back for me?"

The words sent bolts of pain through Gerard's chest. "Oh love, this was no life for you. I couldn't ask you to leave everything for me. Not when I was in a place like this, Frankie."

"You could've come to see me, at least?" Frank answered quietly. "Gerard, I've waited for you under our evergreen every day without fail for so long. I almost gave up."

Gerard held back a sob. "Baby, love, I couldn't see you. If I had come to see you I wouldn't have had the strength to stay away, and if I had been caught you would've been sentenced with me. I couldn't let them hurt you too. You're all I've ever wanted."

"You are an imbecile," Frank sniffed, blinking furiously. "Gerard, I've missed you so much. It's hurt so badly. No excuses you can possibly make will keep me away from you now, not after today. I'll marry you and live with you forever in the forest, if you'll still have me?"

"If I'll still have you?" Gerard breathed. "Nothing would make me happier, my treasure. My beautiful gem." He leaned forward to gently press his bruised lips against Frank's, his arms snaking around the smaller man's waist and drawing him closer. "I just wish I could give you the life that I had promised you before. I'm sorry, Frank. I'm so sorry."

"I'll accept your apology on one condition," Frank murmured. "Never leave me again, Gerard. I'd rather die with you than live without you. Don't leave me to keep me safe."

"I don't want you hurt because of me," Gerard said softly, his eyes never leaving Frank's. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, love."

"So we live out our days together," he responded firmly, resting his forehead on Gerard's. "I don't care how many days we've got, I don't care if we only make it a fortnight, you're mine and I'm yours. Nothing will change that."

Gerard finally gave in, allowing himself to relax against Frank's warm body. "I'm yours," he repeated.

The duo were united in an unofficial woodland ceremony the next morning. Gerard had protested at first, wanting to give him the opportunity to change his mind, but when Frank affectionately told him to close his mouth, he allowed the wedding to continue. They slept together under the stars that night after a day long celebration, falling further in love with every glance and touch, never looking back.

Several months later, the conflict between Gerard and the Sheriff of Nottingham came to a head when the sheriff marched into Sherwood with a platoon of foot soldiers, hell bent on wiping the Robbing Hood and his band of men off English soil for good. Gerard was waiting for him, his men hiding behind trees or beneath dying vegetation, all with their bows drawn and their eyes sharp. They waited for the sheriff and his soldiers to unknowingly march into the center of their concealed circle before they all stepped into the open simultaneously, firing before the soldiers had a chance to react. The result was pandemonium; most of the soldiers fell where they stood, looks of surprised pain frozen on their faces. Others were crying out as they attempted to drag themselves away from the men who had shot them, many leaving trails of blood on the dirt as they grew steadily weaker. Only several had escaped injury all together, and they had hastily drawn their weapons and were darting their eyes around, searching for a weak spot in the circle of foresters. The sheriff was on the ground, although uninjured; he seemed to be trying to cover himself with leaves in a depressingly obvious attempt at hiding.

Gerard strode towards him slowly, coldly placing the tip of his boot on the sheriff's shoulder and pressing down roughly. "Coward."

"Let me leave and I'll give you anything you want," he whined in a wheedling tone, tears falling from his eyes for show. "Anything at all."

"You stole my life from me," Gerard whispered, pulling the hood from his face to expose his identity. "I lost everything."

The man's eyes widened in horror. "Gerard Way? I'll give your estate back to you, I'll publicly apologize, I'll do anything, please-"

"I want you to resign," Gerard responded harshly. "Give me back my land and name me in your stead. You can take your savings and go anywhere you'd like, I don't care about you. I'll be a better sheriff than you ever were. The people of Nottingham will never be cheated again."

Gerard's return to Locksley was triumphant; he returned richer than he had ever been, with a new position and Frank by his side. He settled into the role of sheriff easily, the townspeople of Nottingham thrilled to have him. Gerard addressed the rumors floating around negatively, assuring everyone that he wasn't the Robbing Hood, although he continued to anonymously support his band of men who had stayed behind in Sherwood. His townspeople knew what he had been despite his best efforts, and he eventually just shot people a wink whenever they asked him who he was.

The old sheriff was mysteriously ambushed on his way out of Nottingham, leading to tall tales of Sherwood Forest being haunted by the ghost of the Robbing Hood, finally taking his revenge on the evil official. Again, Gerard did little to deny it.

Frank stayed by his husband through thick and thin, the two taking in a beggar child from the streets and raising her as their own. Gerard fell more in love with Frank every day. The two lived well into their nineties and then died peacefully in their sleep on the same night, still curled close together when they were discovered the next morning, smiles on both their faces. Nottingham had become a far better place with them in it, and they were mourned terribly.

Their old evergreen bloomed with hazel flowers that summer, a sight that nobody had ever seen before. Their daughter, when she witnessed the blooms, simply smiled and stated, "even the tree loved Frank's eyes like my father did."


End file.
